Adventures Left to Come
by Eady of Old
Summary: A variation on S6E7, if Bates had not let Anna run after Mary following the crash.


**Summary:** A variation on S6E7, if Bates had not let Anna run after Mary following the crash.

 **A/N: This story is the result of a discussion about how S6 could have injected more drama into the Anna/Bates storyline, so it is a bit of a variation on the events of S6E7. As always, reviews are most appreciated.**

* * *

"Apparently he invited the entire family without even telling her first."

Anna raised a suggestive eyebrow as she made the statement, and that conveyed as much extra meaning as Bates needed regarding the illustrious Mr. Talbot.

"Lord Grantham is set to go," he stated.

They sat by the fire in their cottage parlor, Anna doing her best to knit while he had a book perched on his lap, ignored at the moment in favor of conversation with his wife. Despite having learned some stitches over the years, she'd never quite gotten the hang of knitting, and whatever garment she was attempting seemed an unholy mess. But she persisted because she felt it was something she should know how to do.

"Is that wise?" Anna questioned, not taking her eyes off her needles. "I thought he was recovering yet."

"It probably isn't wise, and Lady Grantham is opposed. But he's still keen on it."

With a knowing smile that betrayed her familiarity with such male stubbornness, she said, "Then you'll be going with us to London and the races."

"An exciting outing," he agreed. But then his smile fell away and his eyes filled with concern. "Not too exciting for you, I hope."

Anna looked up at the concern in his voice and with a frown, she set down her project. "We've talked about this, _Mister Bates_ ," she admonished him gently, with humor in her tone and formal manner of address. "I am perfectly well so long as I do not over exert myself."

They _had_ talked about it, often and at length, and yet he could not help but express the same sentiment he always did when the subject arose.

"You know I worry."

Ever since he had found out about the miscarriages which she had kept secret from him, Bates had wondered if their dream of having a family was simply not to be. As much as he wanted to see a baby in her arms, to raise a son or daughter with her, he also did not want it to compromise her health. While the Harley Street doctor hired by Lady Mary had performed a procedure to help Anna's body keep hold of the child within her, he worried about how precarious such a thing might be. What might happen if she fell or were jostled too much, he wondered?

"My husband the worryguts," she teased him.

He chuckled at the odd sounding word. "And what does that mean?"

"It's something I heard recently. In London, I think. It means someone who worries too much."

As she spoke, she smiled brightly and reached out a reassuring hand to touch his.

He squeezed her fingers back, reveling for a few seconds in the simplicity of such a moment. For seemingly the first time in their relationship, there was little else for him to worry about except for her. There were no more police investigations, no dead valets or ex-wives. For once, they could concentrate entirely on their home and growing family. And yet...

And yet, Bates had trouble believing in the perfection which surrounded him. Too much of his life had been compromised by ill luck and tragedy. Nearly every time he thought he might relax into a normal life, something came along to muck everything up. Perhaps Anna was right and he simply was a "worryguts." But he would rather worry and see it come to naught than to be blindsided by something he'd never thought to consider.

"I'm still glad I have someone to worry about me," Anna continued, taking back her hand so she could pick up her knitting again. "Even if it is unnecessary."

"I'll remind you of that when there are two of you to worry about," Bates murmured. Looking at the project in her hands, he asked curiously, "And what is that?"

Holding it up for him to examine, she seemed a bit put out. "Can't you tell?"

"A bonnet?" he guessed.

"It's a jumper!"

Cocking his head to the side, Bates re-examined the unfinished article and said, "Yes, of course. I see it now."

After shaking her head at him in sort of amused disappointment, Anna turned her eyes back to her knitting, and he returned his attention to his book.

* * *

"It's too bad we have a chaperone today," he murmured in Anna's ear as they laid out the table for the family's luncheon.

The formal spread seemed out of place at the race track, garnering a few stares from passersby, but Bates was not unused to such attention. Ever since the war, such opulence was growing even more infrequent than it had been before. The lifestyle of the Crawleys could not last forever, and even now they had to cut corners, leading to lady's maids serving luncheon instead of a kitchen maid brought along for the task.

"And just what would you say to me if Miss Baxter wasn't here?" Anna teased him back with a laugh.

Of late, things between them had been so free and easy, such flirtations did not even seem out of place. With Anna expecting their first child, life was alight with possibility and pleasantness. Adding to that, Bates noted the fine weather and upcoming entertainment of the race. It was a lovely day indeed.

"I suppose we'll never know," he murmured in return as the other woman joined them behind the table, making room for a silver tray she had just set.

If Miss Baxter noticed Bates' low conversation with his wife, she gave no sign of it, and he quickly took a few steps away as to allay suspicion. But he did notice that Anna's cheeks and neck were still a bit flushed, and he took pride in knowing he could leave her so affected even after so many years together.

The family came to the table and ate at their leisure, although Mr. Talbot seemed rather bemused by the luncheon and the presence of the servants. "You should still have a good view of the race from down here," he informed them amicably.

"Thank you," Anna told him. "We're looking forward to it."

"Good luck, sir," Bates added.

Lord Grantham, Lady Mary, and the others watched from up on the observation deck, which afforded a more expansive view of the race course. Bates, Anna, and Miss Baxter saw the autos only when they neared the stands, but the general excitement that permeated the track was infectious.

"This seems terribly dangerous," Miss Baxter observed, and Bates could not help but agree.

"I'm sure they go to great pains to be safe," Anna answered.

He responded cynically, "I doubt the safest drivers are the ones who win races."

But their conversation quickly ended as the cars came in sight again, the engines roaring as speed propelled them around the curve of the track. It _was_ exciting to watch, Bates forced himself to admit, and the eagerness of the crowd added to the charged atmosphere. He chanced to look over at his wife as she watched the cars go by, smiling as she cheered on Mr. Talbot.

He was still watching Anna when the sound of the crash tore his eyes away from her. The curve of the track and a copse of trees concealed the identity of the car or cars involved, and a plume of smoke soon confirmed what every man and woman in the crowd knew had happened. A chorus of gasps and screams in panic filled the air, followed by a sudden din of a crowd unsure what to do.

Men started to run towards the accident, likely to help with the fire or to get the driver out. Some moved automatically, not even knowing how they might be useful, but wanting to be of what assistance they could. He could not fault their intentions, but Bates knew well enough that the best aid most of them could give - including he himself - was to stay out of the way.

But Anna was taking steps away from him, as though she were about to join the chaos-riddled crowd heading in the direction of the crash. Realizing she must be moving automatically towards the danger, as she tended to do, he reached out a hand to stop her. His hand found her wrist, and she paused in confusion as she encountered the resistance from him.

"I have to get to Lady Mary!" she exclaimed, growing hysterical among the tide of people around them.

He understood at once her motive. Lady Mary had been widowed by a car accident, and even now the woman faced losing her new beau in the same manner. Of course Anna would want to go to her and comfort her. But-

"Not in your condition," he reminded her, thinking of the cervical stitch. The doctor had told her no strenuous activity, and he felt certain that included running. And based on how Anna had been turning to go before, her steps would not be calm or sedate. She seemed about to run in her haste.

Beyond all that, he did not wish her any nearer to a race car accident than they already were.

"But I must go to her," his wife insisted, pulling her arm in an attempt to free herself. His grip tightened automatically, keeping her in place.

"Anna-" he begged, torn between not wanting to confine her and also needing to keep her safe.

Standing off to the side, actively observing in that extraordinary way she had, Miss Baxter stepped forward.

"I'll go," she said, looking first from the agonized face of Bates to his desperate wife. Miss Baxter put a hand on Anna's shoulder, capturing the woman's attention. "I'll see to Lady Mary," she assured her.

The words seemed to get through to Anna, who relaxed against her husband's hold, no longer trying to break free. As the other lady's maid disappeared into the crowd, they both watched her for a moment before letting their eyes drift back to the black cloud of smoke in the distance. But then Bates turned his attention to the woman in his arms, his hand still holding her wrist even though his grip had gone slack.

"It should be me," Anna said meekly, although he could tell the urgency of the moment was beginning to pass and she was coming back to herself. "I should have gone."

"You must think of yourself," he urged, then more quietly, "And think of the baby."

The tension left in her body seemed to evaporate, and Anna glanced at her husband.

"The stitch," she murmured, seeming to realize why he would not let her go.

Nodding, Bates reminded her, "The doctor told you to be careful."

But the knowledge made her no less miserable in that moment of urgency. After the crowd had begun to thin and Bates caught sight of Lord and Lady Grantham making their way down from the upper level, he and Anna walked to meet them.

"A ghastly business," he overheard the Earl declare. "I hope Henry's all right."

"There's Bertie," Lady Edith stated as her gentleman friend approached from the direction of the crash.

He informed them quickly and succinctly of what had happened, that Mr. Talbot's friend had perished before he could be pulled from the fire. Bates drew in a breath as he imagined the scene, glad once more he had not allowed Anna to go to Lady Mary, who had apparently herself rushed to the accident site. The shock of such a scene was not something he would want his wife to experience even had she not been with child.

True to her word, Miss Baxter stayed with Lady Mary until she rejoined the family, a silent shadow ready to see to the woman as she moved slowly, in a state of quiet shock.

"Do you need anything, milady?" Anna asked her employer.

"Not now, thank you," the woman answered in a toneless voice. Then, glancing up, she noticed that Baxter was the one who had been by her side instead of Anna. "Thank you," she repeated, this time addressed to Miss Baxter.

Bates and the two lady's maids faded into the background so the family could speak with Lady Mary. Anna had been quiet ever since the accident and had hardly even glanced in his direction. Frowning as he thought about her behavior, Bates thought back to the moment at the race track immediately after the crash.

He had grabbed her wrist - hard - and refused to let go.

A cold chill traveled down his spine and into his extremities as he reflected on that moment, previously just a flash in time but now crisp and clear in recent memory. When Anna had attempted to pull away from him, he held her fast, gripping her tightly. How tightly had he held her? He reflected painfully on that point for a moment, remembering only a firm touch but suddenly second guessing himself.

Had he hurt her?

Bates glanced at his wife in time to see her touch her wrist absently with her other hand, encircling the area just above her glove where he'd gripped her.

But... surely he hadn't actually caused her harm? He had touched her with a much firmer hand in... other areas of their life, and never before had she complained about bruises or tenderness. Perhaps it was only the memory of it that stuck with her, of having been embarrassed and forcibly confined by her husband in front of others. Those around them had been strangers, but Bates was well aware that mortification need not occur in front of friends.

And Miss Baxter had witnessed the event, besides.

As he took in Anna's face in profile, her eyes still following Lady Mary like those of a fretful mother hen, he wondered if the damage he inflicted was not physical at all. Years had passed since that horrible, fateful evening during the house party, when he had sat upstairs enjoying the voice of Nellie Melba while his wife was violently assaulted below stairs.

The cold chill became ice water and in an instant, it had shot through every vein in his body, leaving him feeling nauseous and suddenly very, very heavy with worry.

Had he caused her a flashback by grabbing her so suddenly, by confining her against her will? In the moment, he could think of nothing but her, of the baby and the cervical cerclage keeping her from miscarrying yet again. But now as he thought back, Bates wondered if he had overreacted. Surely, she would have been safe to follow after Lady Mary? Perhaps it would have been better to trust her rather than force her to stay...

But even with doubts pressing in on him, Bates could not reconcile allowing his pregnant wife - who had directions from a doctor to avoid activities which might be too strenuous - to _run_ towards a car accident which was literally still on fire. However, he was pulled from his thoughts by Lord Grantham, who mentioned taking the family back to Lady Rosamund's house. His statement seemed to wake Lady Mary from the fog which enveloped her after the crash.

"I should stay. For a while, at least. I need to check... make sure he's all right."

Everyone knew who she meant.

"I'll stay with you, milady," Anna offered. Bates opened his mouth to contradict her, to insist that his wife needed to go back to the house and recover from the shock of the day as much as anyone else, but he paused in indecision. It would not do to have a squabble with Anna in front of the family, and she might well insist despite his wishes as she had earlier.

Thankfully, Lady Mary shook her head.

"No, I'll be fine on my own."

Squaring her shoulders, she turned round as if to go looking for Henry Talbot, and Bates sighed in relief as Anna let her go. His wife seemed to deflate as her employer walked away, no less worried than before, but more relaxed and willing to let him lead her back to the waiting cars.

* * *

After the excitement of the afternoon, Lady Grantham insisted on her husband retiring to bed shortly after dinner. Bates listened dutifully as the Earl fretted over the day's events and Henry Talbot's state of mind. But even the Earl seemed secretly grateful to turn in early. The day had been difficult for everyone and Lady Rosamund's footman reported that dinner had been a quiet, reserved affair among the family ending in stilted words.

Lady Mary stayed up much later than her parents and so Bates was already changed for sleep as he waited for Anna to be done attending to her. With so many family members at the house, the staff were at close quarters, leading to the married servants sharing a room. Bates shook his head at the decision. Only a few years before, such an arrangement would be considered utterly unseemly. But Lady Rosamund's housekeeper had barely batted an eye before directing the Bateses to take the room with two beds and assigning Miss Baxter to share with a housemaid.

As he waited anxiously for his wife to be finished with her duties, Bates almost wished they were in separate rooms after all. They had not spoken about what transpired at the race that day, and the more he replayed the moment in his mind, the greater his feelings of guilt grew.

He should have been gentler with Anna and not frightened her, he mentally self chastised. While he might have acted out of instinct to protect her-

No, it would do no good to go over it again. Each time he did, he encountered the brick wall of his own determination to keep his wife safe. But in doing so, he knew that he might have caused her unnecessary grief as well.

In a futile effort to take his mind off the matter, Bates picked up the book he had been reading. Mindlessly, he stared at the page where he'd last left off, but his eyes refused to read the words.

Thankfully, the sound of the door opening caught his attention and he looked up to see Anna enter their shared room for the night. She grinned at him in an easy fashion, and he suddenly relaxed.

She was not still angry with him, clearly. She even teased him gently about being ready for bed so soon, and he explained about Lord Grantham retiring early.

Lady Mary's night had been considerably longer, Anna pointed out, not only because of her state following the race car crash, but apparently because she had broken things off with Mr. Talbot.

"I wouldn't think it was the right night to make that sort of decision," Bates observed.

Anna sighed in agreement but said, "She says she's sure."

Sensing there was more Anna felt about the matter, he pressed, "Do you think she's right?"

"I don't know." Her voice was heavy with weariness, and he wondered if the day was finally catching up to her. "Probably," Anna added as she moved the pitcher of water from the wash basin.

While she faced away from him, Bates could see the tension in his wife's body in how her shoulders slumped. Pregnancy had not yet begun to make itself known in her figure or face, but it left her far more tired than ever before.

"Then there's no more to be said."

He murmured the words absently, accepting without further discussion Lady Mary's decision. While their employers' lives were always an important topic in their discussions, at the moment, he was more concerned with his wife's personal state of mind. Pulling back the blanket which covered him, Bates moved to sit on the edge of the bed as Anna silently undressed. She kept her back to him, but he watched her all the same.

"And how are you doing?" he asked after the room grew too quiet for his liking.

Not turning around, she answered, "Exhausted and ready for sleep, once I wash off the grime from today."

Her answer was not evasive, but he could tell from her tone that Anna was careful in choosing her words. She also kept her back to him as she finished removing all but her small clothes and used a wet cloth to wipe her face.

The silence tugged at him and Bates could not help but remember those months when she had avoided him after the attack. Each time he had seen her - obviously suffering though he knew not why - felt like a knife in his gut. It twisted and wrenched throughout their interactions, making every glimpse of her a new agony.

And for a moment, as he studied his wife with her back turned to him, he felt a ghost of that pain in his gut once more.

"I hope you aren't still angry with me," he said finally, unable to keep the thought to himself.

His comment earned him an immediate response. Anna stopped her washing and turned to study him. "Whatever do you mean?" she asked, sounding legitimately confused. "Why should I be angry with you?"

"For... earlier. At the race track."

Bates swallowed as he waited for her to remember their earlier interaction and how he'd grabbed her wrist. Instead, she favored him with a wry smile.

"You mean for letting the cat out of the bag to Miss Baxter about my condition?" she said, her voice returning to a teasing tone. "She congratulated me in the hall just now. But I don't think she'll tell anyone else."

Confused, he began, "No, I meant-"

But he could not put into words what he meant. The haze of guilt which had followed him all day suddenly seemed completely imaginary. Had she not been offended, then? Had he not hurt her? She acted as though she had no idea what he was talking about.

"I meant after the crash, when I kept you from going to Lady Mary."

Anna studied him, her eyebrows stitching together in obvious confusion. "I don't know what you mean."

"You said you had to go to her, right after the crash. But I... I took your arm and would not let you go."

Shaking her head, Anna's befuddlement persisted. "I don't remember that."

This time, Bates was genuinely confused. "You don't remember?"

She had struggled against him, trying to break free like a bird from a cage. He remembered distinctly his personal alarm at confining her against her will. But now, it was as though she had forgotten the moment completely.

Obviously at a loss, Anna stood still for a moment, trying to recall the circumstances he described. "I remember Miss Baxter going and I stayed behind with you. Because of my condition."

"But you wanted to go after Lady Mary. You tried to follow her to the crash site."

Her eyes widened in surprise, as though learning of her intentions for the first time. "But, why would I do such a thing? It would be so terribly dangerous."

Bates almost laughed. "My thoughts precisely. That's why I wouldn't let you go."

Anna looked down, and he could see her struggling to remember, combing through her memory as though looking for a lost hairpin on the floor. Absently, her hand went to her wrist, the wrist he had held so tightly, and she looked up at him.

"I remember you grabbed hold of me. But I thought it was to keep me from getting lost in the crowd. I don't remember wanting to go to the crash."

Gently, he said, "You said you had to go to Lady Mary."

But she slowly shook her head. "I don't remember..."

It was not the first time Anna had forgotten something of late, but it was certainly one of the largest lapses in her memory he had yet encountered.

"You were almost... hysterical. Perhaps the shock of the crash caused you to block out the moment," Bates suggested.

Anna nodded slowly, agreeing with him. She added, "And perhaps my condition. I remember when Lady Mary was with child, she forgot things all the time."

Now that she mentioned it, Bates also recalled how Anna would complain about Lady Mary's occasional lapses in memory while she was expecting. It was apparently not an uncommon side effect of pregnancy, but Bates had never encountered it before. Of course, he had not been in close contact with many expectant mothers in his life either.

"But why would you think I would be angry with you?" she asked.

"Because..." He paused a moment to compose a response. "I thought I might have upset you, by holding onto you and not letting you go. I was worried it might have upset you..."

He did not need to go further as her change of expression confirmed that she understood his meaning. She did not like discussing her response to Green's attack nor the way she sometimes had flashbacks to that night at seemingly the oddest times. They had grown infrequent of late, but sometimes she still had nightmares. Reminding her when she had previously been in such a good mood seemed an unkindness, but Bates knew it was something they should talk about.

"If it did upset me, I don't remember," Anna confessed. "I don't really remember much about right after the crash except being afraid for Mister Talbot." She glanced up, meeting his eyes. "And being glad that you were there with me."

The distance between them was suddenly untenable, and he reached out a hand to his wife. She crossed the room and skirted her own cot to take his hand and sit beside him on his.

"I only worried for you because of..." He nodded towards her midsection. "You said the doctor forbid you from any strenuous activity."

"Yes, of course," Anna agreed. "I'm sure if I'd been in my right mind, I would have agreed with you."

Bates smiled at her gently. "I think we all lose our heads a little when we are concerned about someone we care about."

Returning his smile, Anna looked at their joined hands, fingers entwined. Quietly, she murmured, "I think that's why Lady Mary ended things with Mister Talbot. She couldn't stand worrying about him like that. Not when he races cars like this all the time."

"Especially considering what happened to Mister Crawley," Bates stated.

Anna nodded sadly. "Today must have been the final straw for her."

It was sad to think of Lady Mary giving up a fledgling love because she could not stand to see her heart broken again, but Bates well understood her hesitation.

Gently squeezing Anna's hand, Bates tried to stir her from sad thoughts with the quip, "Well, I certainly wouldn't want _you_ to be a race car driver. It would make me a permanent... worryguts."

Anna laughed at both the improbable occupation and his use of the term she'd so recently introduced.

"I think we find quite enough adventure working in service," she joked in return.

"Indeed." With a shy smile and just as he leaned in to kiss her, Bates added, "With adventures left to come."

The End


End file.
